


"[They] Might Go to Yale, [They] Might Not"

by thomasthemiller



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dramedy, Graduate School, M/M, Mental Health in Academia, Multi, Romance, but also quite serious in places, but they're adults with therapy and emotional self awareness, kind of fluffy?, so they get to be happy, that's the word I've been looking for, they're all still struggling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasthemiller/pseuds/thomasthemiller
Summary: But in this story they do! (Go to Yale, that is).A DPS Graduate School AU. Todd is an English PhD Student, and certified anxious mess. Neil is an Acting MFA student, estranged from his parents. They meet one cold November afternoon in a bookstore. Romance, new friendships, and a little bit of chaos ensue.
Relationships: Charlie Dalton/Steven Meeks, Chris Noel/Knox Overstreet, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 34
Kudos: 70





	1. A Sexually Repressed Dead Poet

**Author's Note:**

> As someone who usually writes canon-compliant and post-canon works, I have been wanting to try my hand at an AU for a while. This is the result! 
> 
> I have the first four chapters in mind, and should gradually develop more clarity for the overall story arc. It is Anderperry-centric, but there will also be some Charlie/Meeks. Knox, Chris, Charlie, and Neil are all housemates, as are Todd, Pitts, and Meeks.

Todd Anderson shivered and brushed snowflakes off his coat as he opened the door to his favorite used bookstore in New Haven.

_Damnit_ , he thought, as his teeth chattered. _Snow. Just what I need on top of crippling anxiety_. 

November had, as usual, ushered in plummeting temperatures, bitter wind, and now, the first snowfall of the season. Along with the cold, the start of winter also came with something else; an impending sense of doom.

Todd was nothing less than a human ball of stress; as a third year English PhD student, he juggled his own coursework with teaching responsibilities and the added bonus of a looming dissertation proposal deadline. It was more than any person could take, and every-other day, Todd found a new reason to doubt his chosen career path.

Today was no exception. Earlier that afternoon, he led what he thought was a good discussion on selections from Blake’s _Songs of Innocence and Experience_. His undergraduates debated passionately about the interplay between religion and class consciousness in “The Chimney Sweeper,” and, rationally, Todd knew it was a good class. His teaching abilities were improving. Yet, his anxiety insisted upon contradicting his rational brain, and instead of feeling content, he replayed every moment, and fretted over the one or two things he might have phrased differently. 

As the heat from the bookstore finally began to kick in, Todd breathed a sigh of relief. Now that the chill was gone, he could focus solely on alleviating his anxiety. His therapist recently suggested that he find ways to calm his senses, and, to him, nothing was more calming than the musty smell of old books, dim lighting, and the feel of a hardback volume of poetry in his hands.

He inhaled deeply, and slowly made his way to his favorite nook in the back of the store. For a few minutes he stood there quietly, taking in the scent, running his fingers across the book spines, and debating which title he wanted to delve into. He needed something that was comforting, warm, and familiar, so it was not long before he had an open collection of Gerard Manley Hopkins’ works in his hands.

_I wish it were still autumn_ , he thought, tracing his finger across the first line of “Pied Beauty.” The words “glory to God for the dappled things,” transported him back to long October walks in East Rock Park, and far away from the stress of his job as a teaching fellow. He smiled softly as he flipped through more Hopkins’ classics, like “As Kingfishers Catch Fire,” and “God’s Grandeur.” Finally, his eyes settled on “In the Valley of the Elwy.” He was fully immersed in the Welsh countryside when an unbearably cheerful, unfamiliar voice jolted him from his reverie.

“Jeff! I thought you were up in Boston now. Are you just down for a visit?”

Todd groaned inwardly, and ground his teeth. The voice had to belong to a law student. Second and third year J.D. candidates were constantly mistaking him for his older brother, and it was nothing short of incredibly annoying. Still, Todd knew that ignoring people, though tempting, was socially taboo, so he turned around to address whoever had intruded upon his reading.

His eyes soon fell on a slack-jawed, sandy haired young man with kind eyes, and soft features.

“I’m not Jeffrey,” Todd said firmly, “but it seems you’ve figured that out now.”

The sandy haired boy stuttered. “Um… yeah. I’m, uh, so sorry. You just look so much like him. Like, you could be related.”

Todd laughed. He hated this ritual, but it was always hilarious to witness others’ reactions.

“We are related,” he told the other boy. “Jeffrey Anderson’s my brother. I’m Todd.”

“Oh!” the sandy haired boy exclaimed, looking relieved. “Well, I’m glad to know I’m not going completely crazy. I never knew Jeff had a brother, but then again, I didn’t know him that well. Last year was my first year, and his third, so our paths mostly just crossed at socials and parties.” The boy extended his hand, “I’m Knox Overstreet.”

Todd shook Knox’s hand, feeling a bit taken aback. Usually, people who accidentally called him Jeffrey turned beet red, apologized, and rushed off, but Knox seemed genuinely interested to know who he, Todd, actually was. It was a bit refreshing, really.

After letting go of Todd’s hand, Knox spoke again. “I guess this isn’t the first time that’s happened?” he asked.

Todd shook his head. “No,” he replied. “It happens all the time. Jeffrey and I look a lot alike, so I often get approached by random law students in public places. Jeff and I are really different, though. He’s outgoing and well-spoken, whereas I—” Todd held up the Hopkins’ collection, “prefer to hide out and read late nineteenth- century British poetry about the sanctity of nature, written by a closeted gay Jesuit.”

At that, Knox looked completely baffled, and all Todd could think was _shit._ This was why he hated socializing with strangers. He could never figure out the boundary between normal conversation and accidentally oversharing something deeply personal.

Todd looked down at his shoes and back up at Knox sheepishly, the wheels in his brain desperately trying to churn out some sort of apology or explanation.

“Um…” he stuttered, “I mean- I am- well- I am an English PhD student, so it’s kind of what we do…”

He gazed uncomfortably at the book of poetry in his hands and chewed at the inside of his lip. Knox, Todd knew, would quickly come to his senses and disappear into the stacks. No sane person wanted to hear someone talk at length about late Victorian poetry. So, when Todd did finally look up, he was shocked to see not one, but _two_ boys standing in front of him.

At first, Todd thought that he’d just gone cross-eyed and was seeing double, but after blinking a few times, he realized that the other boy looked nothing like Knox. He was taller, and had dark brown hair with angular cheekbones and sparkling brown eyes.

_He’s also quite attractive_ , Todd thought, as he felt his face grow hot and his stomach knot up. Blushing furiously, he stared up at the two boys, almost daring Knox to explain why he was still standing there.

Knox shuffled his feet. “Sorry,” he said. “It took me a minute to remember Hopkins from my undergraduate lit class. Sprung rhythm, right?”

Todd nodded, trying desperately to avert his eyes from the dark haired guy next to Knox.

Knox spoke again. “I didn’t know about the whole ‘secretly gay Jesuit’ thing, though…” he said, trailing off awkwardly.

At that, the brunette, who was now chuckling, finally piped up.

“Sounds like one sexually repressed dead poet.”

Todd felt goosebumps creep over his arms, and his breath hitched in his throat.

_Even if I had anything to say in response_ , he thought, _it’s not going to come out of my mouth. Or at least, it wouldn’t come out right…_

Todd didn’t need to say anything, though, as Knox had once again spoken up.

“Honestly, Neil. Just because _you_ find a new bloke to hook up with every- other week doesn’t mean everyone else is sexually repressed…”

Todd found himself stifling a laugh.

_So_ , he thought, _Knox’s friend’s name is Neil_.

He didn’t think he was going to forget that any time soon.

Neil looked at Knox and retorted, “You’re almost as bad as Charlie, you are.”

Knox replied. “No worse than you, making comments about sexual repression in front of a complete stranger.”

Todd had no idea who this Charlie person was, but they sounded like quite a handful.

Knox was looking at Todd now, a glint of embarrassment in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry about this,” he said. “We’re being so rude.”

He gestured to Neil. “I should properly introduce you. This is Neil Perry, one of my housemates, and first year acting MFA.”

Neil reached out to shake Todd’s hand, and Todd felt his heart flutter.

“This,” Knox continued, pointing at Todd, “is Todd Anderson. His brother graduated from the law school last year, and I, erm—” Knox paused abruptly before speaking again. “I mixed them up. Todd’s a PhD student in the English department.”

No longer feeling like an intruder, Todd breathed a sigh of relief, and relaxed a bit, though he couldn’t help but realize that he was still strangely hot. He could barely believe that he’d walked into this same bookstore twenty minutes ago with frozen hands and a runny nose.

Finally feeling comfortable enough to speak again, he shyly smiled at Neil and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Neil smiled back, far less restrained than Todd. “It’s nice to meet you as well,” he said.

Knox glanced between Neil and Todd, and, deciding he should finally display some tact, said, “I’m going to go to the modern languages section, Neil. See if I can’t find a book to get for Chris.”

As Knox disappeared to the other end of the store, Neil and Todd were left gazing awkwardly at one another until Todd quickly asked, “Who’s Chris?”

Neil shrugged. “Knox’s fiancée. She lives with us, too. Studies French.” He grinned at Todd. “But that’s by the by. You should tell me more about what you’re reading.” He motioned down at the book.

Todd’s first instinct was to tell Neil to piss off. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what was going on, and he was not interested in being someone’s hook-up. It was not remotely in his nature. And yet, as he stared up at the other boy’s twinkling brown eyes, he couldn’t help but respond.

“Erm—” he stuttered, “well… yeah, Hopkins was a bit repressed, but he mostly wrote about God and nature. Had some interesting ideas about the incarnation of Christ in the natural world…” 

“Ah,” Neil responded. “Are you religious?” 

_Okay_ , Todd thought. _That’s… a weird question for someone to ask if they’re only interested in sex. But then again, of course I’m going to get that, talking about Hopkins…_

He shook his head. “Not particularly. My family occasionally went to a Lutheran Church when I was younger, but I haven’t been in years.”

Neil nodded. “Similarly. Except we were Presbyterian. It was a kind of stuffy, conservative church. Not at all good for a teenager figuring out his sexuality.”

Todd could feel the heat creeping back to his cheeks as Neil kept speaking.

“I think things are changing, though. I mean, last weekend I went out with Charlie, Knox, and Charlie’s ex-girlfriend, Ginny, who had a date from the divinity school. Seemed like a pretty good guy.” Neil shrugged. “But yeah, still not particularly religious. I guess you could say the theater is my religion.”

Todd wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. _At least_ , he inwardly mused, _I’m not the only person who overshares things with strangers._ He looked at the book he was still clutching in his hand, and back up at Neil.

“Well,” he said, “I think there is a God… At least, I’d like to believe that. And it’s easier to while reading someone like Hopkins.”

“Who was a bit repressed,” Neil teased, with a grin on his face.

Todd, embarrassed, blushed, and said, “Well… you wouldn’t be completely wrong.”

Neil took his phone out of his pocket and looked down at it.

“Listen,” he said, looking back up at Todd. “Knox and I have got to get the shuttle home, but it was really nice to meet you. And, um, I think we should go on a date sometime. If you’re interested, that is. I’ll give you my number if you hand me your phone.”

Todd was flustered. “Listen, Neil. It was nice to meet you, too, but I’m not interested in being someone’s bi-weekly hook-up. And, besides, I’m mired in work until January.” He was shy most of the time, but when something really bothered him, he couldn’t help but say so.

“I’m talking about a real date,” Neil said. “Seriously. We meet over coffee and get to know each other. And it can wait until next semester.”

Todd was fiddling with his phone in his pocket now, unsure what to do. He didn’t know what to believe. But, he had to concede that Neil was attractive. _And interesting_ , he thought. _And all of my other dates since my break up in undergrad have been shit…_

Resolved, he grabbed his phone and handed it to Neil, who added his contact information and gave the phone back to Todd.

“Just let me know,” Neil said brightly.

“Yeah.”

Todd nodded as Neil waved goodbye to him and went to rejoin Knox at the register. He reopened the Hopkins collection to “The Starlight Night,” but as he tried to read the poem, his focus drifted. The goosebumps had returned to his arms, if they’d ever disappeared in the first place, and his breathing was shallow. His face felt hot, and his stomach was doing flips.

He needed to relax. He looked up at the shelves, took a deep breath on the count of four, held it for seven seconds, and exhaled for eight—the usual—but his mind was still foggy.

Resigned, he sighed and returned the Hopkins book to the shelf. He didn’t need to buy it; he knew the poems, and had a similar collection at home. 

_Well_ , he thought, _I guess it’s time to go back out into the snow._

As he wandered out of the bookstore and onto the streets, he couldn’t help but think he should put this encounter behind him. He and Neil Perry were, after all, clearly very different people. And yet, Todd couldn’t help but fixate on the other boy, his dark hair and brown eyes, and the way he actually _let_ Todd go on about Hopkins… 

Todd ducked under a shopfront, his hand shaking as he reached to pick up his phone. Despite twitchy, cold fingers, he was able to find what he needed in his contacts and typed out a message:

_Hi, Neil. It’s me, Todd. From the bookstore. I do want that date. Just—it does need to be in January. I’m not kidding about the deadlines._

He debated for a moment whether or not to press send, but the wind was picking up and he knew he needed to make a decision. A blast of icy air hit him, and he wasn’t sure if it was the cold or his own sudden recklessness, but he pushed his thumb down. The message was on its way to Neil.

As Todd left his temporary refuge and headed for the shuttle stop, he wondered if anything would come of it.

_I don’t know what kind of guy would wait two months for a date_ , he thought wryly. _But then again, if he does, then maybe he’s more serious than I thought_. 

All Todd knew was that he would have to wait and see.


	2. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I surprised myself when I decided to write from Neil's perspective in this chapter, rather than Todd's, but it felt like the right move. I've never used Neil's point of view in any of my works for this fandom, so it was quite an interesting experience. I feel much more attached to him now.

It was unusually warm for late January, a case of that awkward, in-between weather; humid, sticky, and worst of all, simultaneously too hot and too cold. Drizzle spritzed from the sky as Neil Perry donned his raincoat and walked out onto the steps of the theater.

Neil did not really mind the weather; he was in a good mood. Rehearsal had gone well, and, on top of that, after two months of patience, he finally had a date with Todd Anderson.

Normally, he would not wait this long to go out with someone; then again, his usual tendency was to avoid anything that could lead to a serious relationship. It wasn’t that he had no interest; he did, and was undoubtedly more of a romantic than others realized. But he didn’t want to burden someone else with his personal problems, namely, his depression and all the other baggage that came from his controlling father and passive mother. 

_It’s funny,_ he thought, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, _that the day before I met Todd in the bookstore, my therapist was trying to tell me that my hookups might be unhealthy coping mechanisms…_

It took all his willpower not to laugh aloud on the theater steps. Sometimes the world had a funny way of conveying its messages.

Neil fiddled with the phone in his hands. Rehearsal, he knew, should have let out at 3:30, and he was supposed to meet Todd by 4:00 at a coffee shop on the other side of downtown. He pressed the home button on his phone, praying that perhaps, just this once, rehearsal had gotten out on time. 

It hadn’t.

_Shit,_ Neil thought, staring at his phone. It was already 3:50, and the coffee shop was at least a fifteen minute walk.

_He’s never going to want to go out with me again, I’ve royally screwed this up… fuck._

Neil was spiraling. Maybe he was more nervous that he realized. He had to fix this somehow, so he quickly typed a message to Todd:

_Hi, Todd. It’s me, Neil. Rehearsal got out a few minutes late, so I might arrive a little after four—I promise I’ll be there as soon as possible!!_

He pressed send, shoved his phone back into his pocket, and took off.

Running in the rain, he knew, was not a sensible thing. Then again, he was not always a sensible person.

The minute he activated the flashing lights that would let him cross to the sidewalk opposite the theater, he was flying. It took all of his concentration not to slip and fall, or worse, accidentally plow into one of many distracted walkers staring at their phones. But, he didn’t want to be late. Or at least, he didn’t want to be _too_ late. So he ran.

By the time he reached the fountain in front of the library, he had come to a halt; he was out of breath and sweating through his raincoat. After some deliberation, and a few seconds to cool down, he opted to walk the rest of the way to the coffee shop. 

When he finally arrived, it was 4:02. He scanned the tables searching for Todd. It took only a few short seconds to spot the other boy, who was wearing a blue sweater and khakis, and was perched on a black sofa while scribbling in a journal, his drink on the table in front of him.

Neil could feel his heart thumping in his chest. If Todd already had his drink, then he must have gotten there early.

_And meanwhile I’m late_.

Neil could not remember the last time he’d felt this anxious about a date—but then again, he also couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so strongly about someone.

He strolled over to where Todd was sitting, and plopped down in the sofa chair opposite the black couch.

Todd glanced up from his notebook.

“I see you’ve made it,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Neil blushed. “Yes,” he answered. “I’m really sorry. Rehearsals almost always run overtime—I should have suggested we meet at 4:15 instead.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Todd assured him. “You sent me a message. And besides,” he gestured toward the notebook, “I’ve just been writing anyway.”

“Writing what?” Neil asked.

Todd fidgeted on the couch, looking a bit agitated.

“I’d rather not talk about that,” he said. “I mean, I hardly know you.”

_Great_ , Neil thought. _I’m already late, and now the first thing I say makes him uncomfortable…_

He needed to switch gears.

“Well,” he said, forcing a grin and standing up from the chair. “I’m going to go get a coffee, and when I come back, hopefully I’ll stop making an ass of myself.”

As he walked to the register to order a dirty chai, he took some deep breaths and gave himself a mental pep talk:

_Don’t panic. It’s not your fault. He probably just feels like his writing is private…_

His internal monologue seemed to work. By the time he returned, drink in hand, to the chair across from Todd, he felt almost as collected as he had when he’d left the theater earlier.

Todd was writing again, but put his journal down the instant he saw Neil return.

“You weren’t being an ass,” he said.

Neil breathed a sigh of relief.

Todd took a nervous breath and continued. “I can get defensive when I don’t want to talk about something. It’s a bad habit. I was extremely shy growing up, so—well, it’s mostly because of that.” He grimaced.

Neil smiled softly, realizing immediately how anxious Todd must be.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I understand. Sorry I got weird about it.”

“No big deal,” Todd told him.

An awkward silence ensued, and they each took sips of their drinks. Todd glanced uncomfortably around the room. 

When Neil could no longer bear the tension, he finally spoke up.

“So,” he began. “I take it your brother graduated from law school last year? I vaguely remember meeting him at a party that Knox dragged me to.”

Todd nodded. “Yeah, he did. He’s working in Boston now, at an immigration law firm. Our parents lost it when they found out. Thought they could always live vicariously through Jeff- it was a bit of a nasty surprise for them. They’ve never given much of a shit about me or what I do with my life, though; I used to hate it, but I guess at least I can do what I want...”

He trailed off, shrugged and gestured at his journal as Neil took another sip of his dirty chai.

“I can sympathize with your brother,” Neil said. “My father was insistent that I’d be a Harvard educated doctor.”

He paused and let out a wry laugh before continuing. 

“So when I started here as an undergrad and declared theater studies as my major, it was an awful mess. He threatened to stop helping with my tuition until we finally came to the agreement that I’d still complete all the pre-med requirements.”

At that, he let out a bit of a shudder.

“That’s why I had to take five years. And, of course, when I never applied to med school and got into the MFA Acting program, my father cut me off entirely. Haven’t heard from either of my parents since.” 

He blanched. He had not meant to share so much about his family issues, and Todd, he could tell, wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to any of this. The other boy appeared to be staring anxiously into his coffee cup.

Neil tried to collect himself. “It is what it is. I’m happier doing what I love, even with the loans.”

He faked a smile, hoping that maybe, just _maybe_ , Todd would feel reassured. He really didn’t want to make this date any more uncomfortable for the poor guy.

Fortunately, his tactics seemed to work. Shortly after he’d stopped speaking, Todd looked up from his drink and said, “Yeah… honestly, parents kind of suck.”

Neil nodded in agreement. That pretty much summed it up, and he was keen to change the subject to anything other than his father.

“So,” he said, looking intently at Todd, “do you have any housemates, or is it just you?”

Todd took a sip of his coffee.

“I have two housemates,” he said. “Both scientists. Steven’s in computer science and Gerard is a mechanical engineer.”

Neil cracked a smile. “So you’re the lone poet among two scientists… sounds like quite the existence.”

Todd laughed. “Honestly, they’re pretty great. The craziest thing they get up to is their antique radio collection, so I can’t complain. Steven was dating this guy from the Classics department for a while… he’d come over a lot, but he wasn’t bad. It’s pretty peaceful- which I like.” 

Neil could not help but think that if tranquility was what Todd wanted, then perhaps this wasn’t the right match. Yet, as he looked into Todd’s hazel eyes, he sensed that there was something more there.

He chuckled softly, before saying, “Sounds nothing like my housemates. I mean, you already met Knox. He’s fine, although he’s definitely known to come home from parties completely wasted. And when Chris doesn’t feel like taking care of him, it’s always down to me and Charlie. And Charlie- well—” Neil smiled deviously. “Charlie’s a character.”

Todd took a sip of his drink and nodded.

“I kind of got that from the bookstore conversation,” he said.

Neil grinned. “Yeah, Charlie’s a bit of a handful. Plays saxophone in a band- they do a house show circuit, and we all go once in a while. He studies music composition- writes some pretty sick electronic music, though I’m pretty sure he gets half his inspiration while stoned. And he definitely gets around, if you know what I mean.”

Todd bobbed his head awkwardly and Neil could tell that he was wondering if he belonged on the same planet as someone like Charlie Dalton.

“Honestly,” Neil continued, “Charlie’s got more sense than you’d think. He’s been my best friend since freshman year, and I’d trust him with just about anything. He just can’t hold down a relationship. I mean, he tried with Chris’s friend Ginny Danburry, who is absolutely lovely—and they lasted an impressive six months before Charlie started flirting with this attractive cello player- Jake, I think his name was- and Ginny just couldn’t take it. They’re still friends, though, even if there’s a bit of tension there…” He shrugged and trailed off.

Todd was fiddling a bit with his fingers in his lap, but he managed to look up and respond to Neil.

“Well,” he said nervously, “I… kind of gathered relationships weren’t your strong suit either.”

Neil felt the color drain from his face once again, but he tried to keep composed.

“I mean, no,” he said, “not really. But my reasons are pretty different from Charlie’s- and I’m serious when I say that I genuinely like you, so there’s that.”

Todd blushed, and Neil hoped to God that he’d come across as honest enough. He really did like Todd, and the last thing he wanted was to mess this up.

He downed the last of his dirty chai, looked back up at Todd and asked, “what about you? When was your last relationship?”

At that, Todd stared down at his lap and chewed on his lip. After a few uncomfortable seconds of silence, he managed to say, “we broke up first semester my senior year of undergrad. Dated for two and a half years, though. He finally broke up with me… didn’t like that I wasn’t out to my parents. But honestly he was kind of a jerk. He’d drag me to parties I didn’t want to go to, and then get upset when I wouldn’t drink and had trouble talking to people. And then he’d always get stupidly drunk and I’d have to take care of him. It… wasn’t exactly great.”

Todd looked as though he’d really rather not relive any of this, and Neil could hardly blame him. This ex-boyfriend sounded like a complete jerk with no respect for personal boundaries. 

“I’ve been on a few dates since,” Todd continued, “but we either don’t click, or, you know, they aren’t really interested in a relationship…” He trailed off, looking as though he’d just tasted something sour.

Neil usually had a response to anything, but he found himself uncharacteristically silent. He could not help but feel sympathy for Todd—it was no wonder the guy didn’t trust people’s motives.

Finally, he managed to say, “God, I’m sorry. That sounds absolutely shit.”

Todd took one last sip of his coffee and nodded, before eventually muttering, “Yeah… it is.”

Neil fell momentarily mute once more, but tried to shoot a compassionate look Todd’s way. His efforts were fruitless, though, because Todd now appeared to be drumming his fingers uneasily against his empty coffee cup.

Watching Todd made Neil feel a bit guilty for even asking the question about previous relationships. It wasn’t out of line, he knew, but still; he always felt palpable pain at the first sign that he’d upset someone. And that pain was always followed by the overwhelming urge to make things right again…

He glanced down at Todd.

“Hey,” he began, once again brandishing his face with a grin. “What do you say we go on a walk?”

Todd looked up from his coffee cup. He seemed to be carefully mulling over the proposition, but finally conceded.

“Yeah… alright.”

They both got up out of their chairs, and Neil stretched while Todd put his journal back into his messenger bag.

“Ready to go?” Neil asked.

Todd nodded.

As they put their dirty dishes into a collection bin, Neil hoped that this wasn’t a stupid idea. When he suggested it, he’d completely forgotten about the rain from earlier, and was now desperately hoping that the weather had cleared up.

The moment they walked outside, though, he was flooded with relief. The rain had given way to a cool, crisp, clear evening; a crescent moon was even visible in the darkening sky.

“It’s really nice out,” Todd commented, as the two of them strolled through streets lined with brick buildings, back towards the old campus.

When Todd spoke, Neil could see a hint of a smile cross his lips.

_Maybe_ , Neil thought, _this date isn’t going so badly after all_.

He tentatively reached out and brushed his fingers against Todd’s hand, hoping beyond hope that the gesture would be reciprocated.

Todd hesitated for a moment, but soon laced his fingers through Neil’s.

Neil grinned.

“You know what?” he asked.

“What?”

“I know you don’t like parties, but you and your roommates should come over to my place sometime. Nothing major, just a small get together.”

Todd seemed unsure.

“Um… maybe…”

“C’mon,” Neil insisted. “It would be a lot of fun. Then you could meet Charlie and Chris, and we could meet … remind me their names?”

“Steven and Gerard?”

“Yes! It’d be great! We should do it. No pressure, though.”

“I’ll think about it,” Todd told him, “but no promises!”

Neil rubbed his thumb over Todd’s hand, before adding, “we have a fire pit…”

“I said I’d _think_ about it,” Todd said, taking a teasing glimpse at Neil’s face.

Neil, figuring that was as good an answer as any, decided not to press the subject any further.

They walked in contented silence for a while longer, hands still clasped together in spite of their now sweaty palms, until finally, they reached the green by the library.

“Um…” Todd began tentatively. “Can we not wander off too much further? I, erm, have some reading I need to get done tonight, and we’re so close to a shuttle stop…”

Neil nodded and let go of Todd’s hand. He figured if he wanted this to get off on good footing, he’d better respect the other boy’s wishes… but, at the same time, he also didn’t want this evening to end.

He looked at Todd. “Yeah, that makes sense. I have to do a reading response for my text analysis class, so I can’t stay much longer either- but would you like to go sit down somewhere for a bit?”

Todd was clearly thinking it over, because, as Neil noted, his face had scrunched up ever so slightly. It was not long, however, before the words, “Yes, sure,” came out of his mouth. Neil shot him a smile. 

They wandered towards the library, eventually found a bench nestled in a dimly lit, quiet corner of the lawn, and sat down.

Todd spoke first. “You know… I never asked you earlier what you were in rehearsal for.”

“Oh, that!” Neil said. “We’re doing _Much Ado About Nothing_ in a few weeks.”

“Ah,” Todd said. “And you’re playing…?”

“Claudio,” Neil told him.

“… isn’t that the one who rejects his betrothed at the altar because he’s tricked into thinking she’s unfaithful?”

Neil was impressed. “Hey, you know it!”

“Of course I know it,” Todd said, smiling ever so slightly. “I’m getting a PhD in English, so, you know… you’d hope that I’d have some familiarity.”

At that, Neil felt a tad bit embarrassed.

_How,_ he thought, _did I not manage to connect two and two?_

Blushing, he responded to Todd. “Christ, I’m so sorry, I was absolutely not thinking about that. Of course you’d know your plays.”

Todd nodded, and Neil, whose momentary shame had now subsided, felt completely exhilarated. It was so rare for him to be able to talk Shakespeare with someone who knew the shows as he did. Sure, Knox and Charlie listened to his ramblings, but they didn’t really _understand_.

He gazed over at Todd with what he suspected was a slight manic glint in his eyes.

“Which one is your favorite?” he asked. “Of Shakespeare’s plays that is.”

Todd had to think for a moment. “Hmm… that’s so difficult. I usually prefer the tragedies, so maybe _Hamlet_ … or _Macbeth_. But come to think of it, I also quite like _The Tempest_.”

“Oh, _The Tempest_ is just fantastic,” Neil gushed. “Definitely one of my absolute favorites… ‘be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not’…”

Todd was looking at Neil now, and, much to Neil’s surprise, seemed to be beaming from ear to ear. Neil caught Todd’s gaze, suddenly overtly conscious of his own heartbeat. He didn’t know if what he was about to propose was a good idea, but he knew now was as good a time as any.

“Can I kiss you?”

At first, Todd seemed caught off guard by the question. His smile transformed into something distinctly more pensive, but he eventually nodded and murmured, “Yes… you can.”

Neil could feel his breath hitch in his throat; he wasn’t really expecting a yes, but it was, he had to admit, a pleasant surprise. A subtle grin spread across his face as he cupped Todd’s cheek with one hand, and gingerly placed his other hand on Todd’s shoulder. He rubbed his fingers gently against the soft fabric of Todd’s sweater. Todd was looking at him intently now, and he could scarcely believe this was the same guy who’d been anxiously tapping at an empty coffee cup a mere thirty minutes ago.

_Of course_ , he thought, _I’m certainly not complaining…_

His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned forward, tilted his head, and brushed his lips up against Todd’s. He could feel Todd respond, ever so cautiously, and couldn’t help but note that Todd’s lips were surprisingly soft, despite the cool weather. Maybe it was the recent humid spell, maybe it was Chapstick; Neil did not know or care. He was completely immersed in the euphoric feeling from Todd’s lips gently grazing his.

They were in a public place, he knew, not too far away from an undergraduate residence, so he made no move to deepen the kiss. And, of course, he figured that Todd was not the type to appreciate anything more sultry, especially on a first date.

After what seemed like ages- though, in reality, it was only a matter of seconds- they broke apart. Todd’s face was flushed, and Neil stared into his eyes, smiling.

Todd opened his mouth to speak.

“Um… I, er, probably should get the shuttle home,” he stuttered. “Like I said, a lot of reading…” 

Neil nodded. He wasn’t entirely surprised by this reaction, and besides, he too had dinner and homework to take care of.

_Not_ _that Charlie and Knox won’t spend the whole evening distracting me from my work, though,_ he thought. _They know I’ve been on a date, and they aren’t exactly **not** nosy_.

Still, he figured he could deal with Knox and Charlie; it was, after all, nothing new for him.

“Yeah,” he told Todd. “We probably should go.”

As they got up and walked to the shuttle stop, Neil checked his phone.

“Looks like my line’s almost here,” he said, glancing over at Todd. “But what would you say to meeting at the same time next week? If it’s good for you, that is.”

Todd briefly exchanged Neil’s look, before saying, “Yeah- yes, that should work. Same place? Or somewhere closer to the drama school? There’s that one café that does really good tea…”

Neil laughed. He knew the place, and was surprised he’d lacked the foresight to suggest meeting there today, rather than across town.

“That’s a great suggestion,” he said, watching his bus pull up. “Let’s do that!”

“Sounds good,” Todd said, a glimmer of a smile crossing his lips. 

At that moment, Neil got on the shuttle, but managed to turn back for a second and beam at Todd. As he scaled the steps of the bus and sat down, he mentally braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of questions he was bound to get from Charlie and Knox, but he wasn’t particularly bothered. Looking out through the window, he could still see Todd, who, while waiting for his bus, had pulled out a book to read by the lamplight. Neil smiled to himself. Soon, the bus accelerated up the hill and Todd disappeared from his sight- but he could not shake the lingering thought that there might be a chance this would work out after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neil Perry asks for consent to kiss Todd, because he is such a good seed, even if he does have his problems. Go Neil. 
> 
> Also, be prepared for more characters in Chapter 3...


	3. Hopkins, Rossetti, and A Little Bit of Hedonism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but I'm back. :) 
> 
> I've been wading on and off through pandemic fog, and some days it's just been hard to do anything creative (if you're also feeling this way, please know you are not alone!) so I took a bit of time before starting on this chapter. But! The good news is that it's super long, and the gang is finally all together. (Except no Cameron or Mr. Keating- still trying to figure out if I'll integrate them into the story somehow? I know Jeffrey will eventually make an appearance, though.) 
> 
> *Another thing of note: I've upped the rating of this story to Mature; when I started, I wasn't exactly sure how this chapter would pan out, and I had every intention to keep it chaster than I ultimately did, for which I apologize. It's still not particularly graphic, but is definitely enough to warrant a change in rating.*

Todd hated parties; loathed them, in fact. Social anxiety was a constant struggle for him, so as far as he was concerned, the only thing worse than meeting hordes of new people all at once was being surrounded by hordes of new people who all also happened to be inebriated. And being surrounded by hordes of inebriated people…well, in his experience, that was the very definition of ‘party.’

It wasn’t that he had never been to a party- in fact, he’d gone to quite a few during his undergraduate days, but that was a time when he’d been too timid to assert any personal boundaries. Back then, no matter how much he protested, he still allowed his ex-boyfriend to drag him to raucous events that made him uncomfortable. 

Lately, though, in large part thanks to therapy, he’d developed at least a little bit of backbone, and tried to make a habit of saying no to things that he knew he’d find physically or emotionally distressing. Establishing boundaries had become easier, and he was grateful for it. But, at the same time he was somehow cognizant that paralyzing fear also made him avoid things that might actually be enjoyable. It was quite the dilemma, and the trouble was deciphering the healthy from the unhealthy… that was, well, a difficult task. From Todd’s perspective, it was far easier to refuse anything that posed even the slightest potential for discomfort.

It was no surprise, then, that he reacted with suspicion when Neil suggested on their first date that they have a gathering with all of their roommates. Todd liked Neil, frankly more than he wanted to admit, but whether or not he trusted Neil- well, that was a different question entirely. Neil was charming, certainly, but Todd was not naïve; he knew well enough that charm could mask malicious or self-serving intentions. So, when Neil initially posed the question about a get-together, Todd coyly responded with “I’ll think about it,” and left it at that.

Now, though, he _was_ beginning to trust Neil. Since their first date, they met at least once or twice a week for walks, coffee, tea- whatever struck their fancy, really. On one particularly memorable day two weeks ago, they holed up in the library to escape a downpour, and Neil nicked Todd’s copy of Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s _House of Life_ sonnets and started to read aloud:

_Or when in the dusk hours, (we two alone,)_

_Close-kissed and eloquent of still replies,_

_Thy twilight-hidden glimmering visage lies,_

_And my soul only sees thy soul its own?_

Todd could not shake the memory, the feeling of his knees going weak at the words, and his face flushing while he tried- and failed- to mutter something about how Rossetti was just inspired by Dante Alighieri and the interplay between human and divine love.

Then, last week, he and Neil went for a walk in the park and found themselves sitting on the swings. Neil talked at length then, mostly about how frustrating it was that his falling-out with his father also fractured his relationship with his mother, and in that moment, Todd realized that Neil’s charm wasn’t a front to disguise malintent, but rather, a way of hiding his pain from others. And if there was anything Todd understood, it was fear of vulnerability.

He wanted to repay Neil for his honesty somehow, so when Neil once again asked about getting all their roommates together, Todd somehow found the courage to say yes, even if the thought made him nervous as hell.

Now the evening of the ‘party’ had finally arrived. Todd stood in his kitchen with a pallid expression on his face and a death grip around the bottle of red wine in his hand. His roommates, Steven and Gerard were there, too, sitting at the kitchen table and munching on pretzels, completely unbothered. 

Steven ran a hand through his curly red hair and looked up at Todd sympathetically.

“It’s going to be all right, you know,” he said.

Todd jerkily nodded and looked down at the floor. In the brief moment of silence that followed, Steven pulled out a cloth to clean his glasses before speaking again.

“I mean, you seem to really like this guy,” he said, wiping his lenses and putting the cloth away, “so it can’t possibly be that bad. And of course,” he gestured at Gerard, “we’re excited to come along.”

Gerard took a bite of pretzel, nodded, and laughed.

“It’s definitely a step up from our usual brewery trivia nights.”

Steven gave him a reproachful look.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far…” 

Todd managed to crack a smile at the exchange. Pub trivia was a near weekly ritual for their house, and even he joined in the fun once in a while. When he did it was always a big help, because he usually got most of the literature questions right.

“Anyway,” Steven continued, looking back over at Todd. “As I was saying, it’s going to be fine. Fun, even. But—” he turned to face Gerard- “not as fun as pub trivia.”

Gerard, who was putting a chip clip on the bag of pretzels, gave Steven a teasing grin.

“Well, that’s your opinion,” he said, getting up to return the pretzels to the pantry and, as he did so, trying not to hit his head on the low ceiling. “I, for one, think it could be just as enjoyable as pub trivia.”

Steven rolled his eyes.

“Doubtful,” he said, “but I’m sure we will enjoy ourselves, and—” he looked at the time on his phone- “if we don’t want to be late, then we probably should head out.”

Todd gulped. Earlier that afternoon, he’d been sorely tempted to text Neil and claim that he was ‘sick,’ but fortunately, with some encouragement from Steven, he was able to muster up the strength not to do that. Besides, he knew it would have hurt Neil’s feelings, and that was the last thing he wanted, especially when things between them were going so well.

He chewed on his lip a bit before speaking.

“Yeah. You’re right. I guess we probably should…”

Steven glanced over at the bowl where they all kept their car keys.

“Who’s driving tonight?”

“Well,” Gerard said, getting up and walking over to grab a set of keys, “seeing as it’s Todd’s boyfriend’s house we’re going to, he might not come home tonight. And—” he looked at Steven, “I figured I’d be generous and let you enjoy a few glasses of wine.”

Steven smiled, appreciative of the gesture. Meanwhile, Todd blushed furiously.

_It’s not like **that**_ , he thought, though he couldn’t bring himself to say this aloud. He certainly still planned on coming home, whether his roommates thought so or not.

Gerard jingled the keys.

“Ready to go?”

Steven nodded, and got up from his chair. Todd, admittedly, wasn’t ready- at least not mentally, and didn’t think he’d ever be, but he still managed to follow his two roommates out the door of their apartment.

By the time they pulled into the driveway of Neil’s house, Todd’s hands were shaking, and he was desperately trying to take deep breaths to calm down. He knew it was irrational to be this worried, and knew that this wasn’t meant to a party per se- just a small get together, but regardless, he still couldn’t tame his apprehension.

Steven seemed to sense this, and turned around from the passenger seat to face Todd.

“I know you’re anxious,” he said, “but just think of it the same way you think about going to pub trivia.”

Todd laughed, but internally thought, _this has to be the furthest possible thing from pub trivia_. In fairness, though, he knew Steven had a point. It wasn’t like there would be many people there, and between Steven, Gerard, Neil, and Knox, he already knew at least four of them.

He steadied his breath before saying, “Yeah, you know what? You’re right.”

Steven nodded in agreement, opened his door, and stepped out of the car.

“I know,” he said. “And we should probably get a move on or they’ll wonder what’s keeping us.”

At that, Todd got out of the car, too, and he, Steven, and Gerard made their way to the door of a gray, paint chipped, lovely, yet unkempt Victorian house. Steven rang the bell. To Todd’s surprise, it wasn’t Neil who answered, but a petite brunette with curly hair.

“Oh, hi!” she said, looking at the boys and smiling. Then she glanced into the foyer behind her, and back at the boys, apologetically. “I think Neil is taking something out of the oven, otherwise he would have answered.”

Todd, who had immediately panicked upon seeing a stranger, breathed a sigh of relief.

_At least_ , he thought, _we didn’t get the wrong house. That would have been beyond embarrassing._

The girl smiled. “I’m Ginny Danburry,” she said, holding out her hand so Todd could shake it.

Todd thought she seemed friendly enough, and there was something about her demeanor that made him feel at least a little bit more relaxed. He shook her hand.

“I’m Todd Anderson,” he told her.

She cocked a grin, and, looking at Steven and Gerard, said, “I thought so, considering Neil’s never described you as tall or a redhead.”

Todd smiled bashfully. Ginny, meanwhile, directed a curious glance Steven’s way. He returned the expression.

“Have we met before?” Ginny asked, shaking his hand.

Steven replied. “I think so. You’re a classics undergraduate, aren’t you? I think Josh, my ex, was a teaching fellow for one of your classes last year, and I may have brought him coffee one or two times…”

“Oh, yeah!” Ginny said, the realization dawning on her. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

She turned to Gerard.

“And you are?”

“Gerard Pitts,” he said, shaking her hand with a smile.

When Ginny let go of Gerard’s hand, she once again turned and looked back into the foyer. She sighed, put a hand on her hip, and looked at Todd.

“I honestly don’t know what’s keeping Neil,” she told him, “but you all should come in and hang up your coats.”

Todd shrugged as he, Steven, and Gerard walked into the house. He wasn’t sure what was going on either, but knew Neil well enough by now to be familiar with his antics. He figured they’d find out what the issue was soon enough, and he was right; as he hung his coat on the hook beside the door, a sudden yelp rang out from the back of the house.

“Ouch! Jesus… fuck.”

Todd recognized Neil’s voice immediately, and his eyes hardened with concern. Then he heard another voice, one he knew belonged to Knox.

“Lord almighty, Neil, did you try to take those brownies out with only one oven mitt?”

Todd looked up at Ginny, who had her head in her hands. She returned his glance, and it was painfully clear that she was embarrassed on Neil’s behalf.

“I’m. So. Sorry.” she mouthed at him.

He flushed. Honestly, he wasn’t all that surprised. For all Neil’s bravado, Todd knew he had a slight tendency towards clumsiness.

Soon another voice joined the fray.

“If you’d just let me put pot in them, at least burning your finger would have been worth it…” 

_And that_ _has to be Charlie_ , Todd thought.

The sound of running tap water soon drowned out the bickering voices in the kitchen, and Todd could only assume that Neil was now trying to soothe the burn on his finger. Gerard, meanwhile, was laughing. Steven glanced over at Ginny, who clearly did not know what to say. He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, and back up, before asking, “er… is it always like this?”

“Chaotic?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, always.”

At that, she ushered them into the living room, where a blonde girl was sitting in an armchair, reading.

“Hi, Chris!” Ginny said brightly.

The girl looked up.

“Oh, hi!” she said, fixing her gaze on Ginny and the boys. She then looked specifically at Todd, who could only blush with embarrassment at the realization that everyone here knew exactly who he was.

“Sorry they’re morons,” Chris told him, glancing back towards the kitchen, a sardonic look on her face. “I mean, it isn’t like taking brownies out of the oven with one mitt is a problem for most people, but, well—”

“Neil’s clumsy. I know,” Todd said, chuckling a bit.

He was finally beginning to loosen up some. There was something comforting about how _normal_ everything seemed. It was nothing like his horrible memories from undergrad; party punch, people dancing on tables, and an ex-boyfriend with a penchant for vomiting on other peoples’ shoes.

He watched as Steven, Gerard, and Ginny sat down on the couch next to Chris. For a minute, he considered doing the same, but instead looked at Ginny, and asked, “which way’s the kitchen? I think I’m going to make sure Neil’s okay.”

She turned and pointed down the hallway. “Back of the house, to the left. Follow the smell of the brownies.” 

Todd nodded, and walked off. As he wandered through the corridor, he breathed in the chocolate scent wafting through the air, and could just make out Steven in the background, already interrogating Chris about the book she was reading. He smiled to himself.

_Yes,_ he thought, _I think this will be okay after all_.

Once he reached the kitchen, he spotted Neil, who was still standing by the sink, running water over his finger. Knox and Charlie chatted with one another at the table in the corner of the room. 

Todd glanced around awkwardly, hoping someone would notice him so he wouldn’t have to announce his presence, but his hopes were dashed within seconds. Neil was too focused on nursing his burn, and Knox and Charlie, too deep in conversation.

Todd, now resigned to his fate, mustered up the nerve to clear his throat and speak. 

“Um… hi?” he stuttered.

Knox and Charlie looked up from the table, and Neil immediately turned the faucet off and spun around to face Todd, his expression contrite. Charlie whistled, and Todd shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Neil glanced down at his burnt finger and back up at Todd, before apologizing profusely.

“Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry. I should have answered the door, but I was taking brownies out of the oven and decided to take my finger out in the process.”

“So we heard,” Todd said, biting his lip to stifle a laugh. It was hard to be mad when he knew that Neil would most likely have a fluid filled blister on his hand for several days. Todd could still distinctly recall the time he burned his own fingers on a boiling teakettle; the experience was not enjoyable.

He walked over to the sink and gingerly touched Neil’s injured hand.

“Are you alright?”

Neil nodded.

“Yeah. Probably just need Neosporin and a Band-Aid.”

“I think Chris has some in her first aid kit,” Knox told him. “I’ll go and grab it.”

He got out of his chair, and disappeared from the kitchen, leaving Todd alone with Neil and Charlie.

Charlie, smirking, looked at Neil.

“And to think- you were supposed to be a doctor.”

Neil let out a rueful laugh.

“Christ, can you imagine? I can’t even get brownies out of the oven without burning myself, so I’m pretty damn glad I don’t have anyone else’s life in my hands.”

Todd really didn’t know what to say. It was clear to him that Neil and Charlie had some sort of rapport he did not fully understand. He stood there silently for a moment before Charlie, grinning, caught his gaze.

“I suspect you already know who I am,” Charlie said, looking at Todd mischievously, “and I definitely know who you are.” At that, Charlie glanced over at Neil, who looked uncharacteristically self-conscious. “So,” he continued, looking back at Todd, “I’ll just presume no proper introduction is needed.”

Todd could only shake his head mutely, but thought to himself, _No. No introduction needed_. He knew exactly who Charlie was; that part, he thought, was not strange. The weird thing was that everyone knew _him_. He was used to being a wallflower, and, frankly, liked it that way, so this was unnerving. Still, he could not help but feel somewhat flattered.

_Neil must talk about me a lot_ , he thought, blushing.

Just then, Knox walked back into the room, handed a pack of band-aids and a tube of Neosporin to Neil, and sat back down at the table with Charlie. He eyed the box of band-aids now in Neil’s hand.

“They’re Pixar themed. You know how Chris is- never buys the normal ones.”

Neil grinned, wrapping a band-aid around his finger. Todd could just make out that it bore the image of Sadness from _Inside Out_.

“Trust me, Knox,” Charlie said. “We all remember the time you fell off your bike and had Hello Kitty plastered all over your knee for a week.”

Knox, embarrassed, blushed. Neil, meanwhile, walked over to the stove, started cutting brownies, and to Todd’s relief, managed to avoid any further injury. 

“Well,” Neil said, looking at Todd while slicing the last brownie square, “they’re ready if you want one. And I promise—” he stole a look at Charlie- “they aren’t drugged.”

Charlie shrugged, a smirk adorning his face. Neil rolled his eyes.

_There they go again_ , thought Todd. He could not help but wonder if there had, at one point, been something more than friendship between Neil and Charlie, but shoved the thought to the back of his mind; it was wise, he knew, not to dwell on such things.

As if on cue, Neil wandered back over to Todd and laced their hands together. With his other hand, he gestured to the brownies and the kitchen table, where a number of different beverages had been laid out.

“So, yeah,” he said, with a grin on his face. “Brownies are by the stove, courtesy of me and my burnt finger. And alcohol and soft drinks are on the table.”

Todd smiled back at Neil, feeling altogether more reassured. He did, however, have the slightest feeling he’d forgotten something.

_Alcohol_ , he thought. _That was it._

He broke Neil’s gaze and glanced nervously toward the kitchen door. Neil squeezed his hand.

“What is it, Todd?”

“Oh, um, it’s just that we brought a bottle of wine and I left it in the car,” Todd said, turning his eyes back towards Neil. “I probably should go and get it…”

He let go of Neil’s hand, and started to walk out of the kitchen, but the effort was in vain. Steven had appeared in the doorway, wine bottle in hand.

“Where should I put this?” the redhead asked, holding up the bottle.

Todd shuffled awkwardly back to Neil’s side, and the two exchanged expressions of amusement.

“You can just put it down here,” Knox said, pointing to the table in front of him.

Steven walked over to the table, uncorked the wine, and poured himself a glass. He took a sip, and introduced himself to Knox, Charlie, and Neil, before returning to the living room. Todd took this as his cue to have a glass of wine as well, and he also grabbed a brownie; he figured he’d better have one, considering Neil had sacrificed his finger to the cause. He stuffed a bite of the gooey chocolate into his mouth, and just as he was chewing, Charlie spoke up.

“So,” Charlie said, looking at Todd, a devious glint in his eye. “What’s the deal with your roommate?”

Todd nearly choked on his brownie.

_What_ , he thought, _is it with people who try to ask you questions when you’re eating?_

He quickly swallowed the rest of the chocolatey substance in his mouth before choking out, “Um… you mean Steven?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, that’s exactly who I mean.”

Todd was at a loss for words. Sure, perhaps Charlie found Steven attractive, but they were the last people he could envision together. Steven was down-to-earth, calm, and collected. Charlie, was, well- Charlie.

Neil finally broke the silence.

“Honest to God, Charlie, I swear if you start something with one of Todd’s roommates tonight, Ginny’s going to be so pissed off. So please… just control yourself.”

Charlie sighed. “First the brownies, now this…”

Neil and Knox looked at one another, bemused.

“Anyway,” Charlie continued, getting up from his chair, “speaking of Ginny, we have a fire to build outside, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go grab her from the living room.”

“Take Chris with you!” Knox shouted, as Charlie disappeared into the hall. Then, under his breath, he muttered, “if someone’s not with them they’re gonna set each other on fire, I swear to God…”

Todd found himself laughing so hard that wine sloshed out of his mouth back into his glass. It seemed he finally felt free to relinquish all the nervous energy that he let fester in the hours preceding the party.

When he finally collected himself, he noticed Neil staring at his face intently. He flushed, feeling that perhaps he needed to apologize for the laughing fit. But before he could say anything, he heard Neil utter the words, “you have a wine stain on the bow of your lip.”

Todd blushed.

“Oh,” he said, “well, I’ll um… I can wipe it off with a wet paper towel…”

Neil, however, clearly had other ideas.

“Or you could let me take care of it…” 

While Todd was conscious of Knox still sitting at the kitchen table, he was also far too enticed by Neil’s suggestion.

He leaned his face in, closer to Neil’s, and whispered, “I could, could I?” 

Neil smiled at him before their lips met, and Todd could feel Neil’s tongue swipe over the area just above his top lip. Goosebumps erupted on his arms just before Neil broke the kiss, grinning.

“You know I haven’t left, right?” Knox teased.

“Well, better you than Charlie,” Neil told him. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t all live with _your_ fiancée.”

“That’s fair,” Knox said, standing up from his seat at the table. “I’m still going to go outside, though. Watching Charlie and Ginny try not to kill each other sounds more entertaining than—" he glanced from Neil to Todd- “whatever this is.”

Knox exited the room, and Neil and Todd were left looking awkwardly at one another.

“Do you want another brownie?” Neil asked, smiling.

“Is this a ploy to make my mouth taste like chocolate?”

“Maybe…”

Neil brushed his lips against Todd’s once more before he broke away and wandered back over to the stove.

“So,” he said, “I take it you do want another brownie, then?”

“Yes,” Todd said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. And, as he watched Neil put two brownies onto a plate, he could not help but think that perhaps parties weren’t always so bad, after all.

* * *

About an hour later, Charlie and Ginny had managed to build a fire, and somehow, Neil thought wryly, he was still the only one who’d sustained any burn injuries this evening. That was nothing short of a miracle, considering Charlie and Ginny were both pyromaniacs _and_ still had some pent-up resentment left over from their break-up.

Everyone was sitting outside on picnic blankets now, their bodies slowly warming up thanks to the heat emanating from the fire. Todd and Neil shared one blanket and lay on their backs, their sides brushing. Chris and Knox sat on the blanket next to them, holding hands. On the other side of the firepit, Ginny chatted with Steven, Charlie, and Gerard.

Things, thought Neil, were surprisingly peaceful. He and Todd were staring at the stars in silence, and in that moment, he thought nothing could interrupt his reverie. This was wrong, of course. No moment of peace lasted long when Charlie was around.

“So,” came the voice, cutting across the fire, “I think we should put on some music. I can bring the speakers out. Anyone object to _Switched On Bach_?”

Neil sighed.

“I object,” Knox said wearily. “I really don’t get what’s so great about it, and besides, we already had to watch you drop your bad sax reeds into the fire, one by one.”

“Okay, fine,” Charlie said, resigned. “I’d enjoy it more if I were stoned, anyway.”

“As you do with most things,” Neil jested.

Subdued giggles broke out from around the fire, before Steven jumped in.

“Well,” he said, coughing a bit from the plume of smoke streaming towards him, “ _Switched on Bach_ is iconic, and was instrumental in bringing the Moog synthesizer into the mainstream. Not to mention Wendy Carlos is absolutely genius…” 

Charlie turned to Steven and winked.

“Glad to know _someone_ understands true art.”

Steven blushed, while Ginny looked distinctly unamused.

_Well,_ Neil thought, _Charlie’s certainly not heeding my advice about not starting anything with Todd’s roommate._

Admittedly, he should have known not to expect anything else from Charlie.

He rolled over onto his side and whispered into Todd’s ear.

“Turns out they do have something in common after all…”

Todd whispered back.

“I still can’t see it…”

“Well,” Neil murmured, “you don’t know Charlie like I do. Next thing you know, well- you know.”

He sighed before muttering, “Ginny was supposed to stay over on the pull-out, but will probably want to go back to her residential college if, well, if—”

“I… think you might be getting ahead of yourself,” Todd said under his breath. “But, um- if _that_ does happen and she wants to go back, Gerard can drive her. We’ll have room.”

At the mention of the word _we_ , Neil brushed his fingertips up against Todd’s hand and whispered, “You know _you_ can stay, right?”

A hint of red crept onto Todd’s cheeks.

“Um…” he stammered softly, “I mean… I wasn’t planning on…”

Neil’s eyes clouded with concern. Clearly, he’d broached a touchy subject, and, unfortunately, one they couldn’t leave unaddressed. He squeezed Todd’s hand.

“Do you want to go talk about this inside?”

Todd appeared a bit reticent, but nodded. Neil stood up, and as he did, brushed the grass that had crept onto the blanket off of his knees; Todd quickly followed suit.

“If anyone needs us,” Neil said, loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fire, “we’ll be in the living room.”

“Oh, right,” Charlie said, cocking an eyebrow. “The living room. _Sure_.”

Neil was annoyed. On a normal day, he’d react with mock derision, laugh it off, and go about his business. But this was not a normal day, and Todd, who was now staring at the ground fidgeting with his hands, was clearly discomforted by Charlie’s insinuation. Neil felt heat creep to his cheeks. 

“Yes, Charlie. The living room,” he snapped, walking back towards the house, Todd beside him.

They stepped through the back door into the kitchen, and as Neil shut the door behind them, he could faintly hear Charlie in the distance, muttering the words “Sheesh…what has gotten into him lately?”

Neil sighed. Frustrated though he was, at least he could talk openly now.

“Sorry about Charlie,” he told Todd, apologetically. “He’s just, well—”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah…” Neil said, trailing off. Not much else needed to be said.

They meandered down the hallway, and when they reached the living room, they took off their shoes and sat down on the sofa facing each other, feet touching.

“You know,” Neil began, making eye contact with Todd, “when I said you could stay, I wasn’t necessarily implying sex. My bed’s big enough for the two of us. Or, alternatively, you can always sleep on the couch, if Ginny decides to go back to her dorm. ”

“I realize that,” Todd responded softly, glancing down at their feet. “It’s just- well, um, the problem is…”

Neil could sense that Todd was reluctant to state what was on his mind, but he hoped some gentle coaxing would do the trick. He lightly rubbed his toes up against Todd’s.

“Yes, tell me. What is the problem?”

At that, he could see Todd’s cheeks begin to flush, and he hoped he had not made a mistake in pushing the subject. Todd started to speak again, still seemingly unable to get to the point.

“Well, um, it’s just that… well….” 

Neil felt bad; he really hadn’t meant for this to happen, and he was just about to formulate an apology, when suddenly, Todd’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

“The problem,” Todd said quietly, almost darkly, “is- is that I do… want to.”

Todd fell silent, clearly shocked that the words had escaped his mouth at all, and Neil could barely believe what he’d heard. It wasn’t impossible, he knew, for someone to feel this way, but it was certainly the first time he’d heard anyone describe wanting sex as ‘a problem.’

“I… know it sounds stupid,” Todd murmured, running his fingers over the side of the couch.

“It’s not stupid,” Neil assured. “Surprising, maybe. But not stupid.”

Todd, still focused on the couch and only half paying attention to Neil, continued.

“It’s… been over four years since I’ve been with someone--” he stopped to take a breath- “and, well- I think you know by now that my ex-boyfriend was a jerk.”

That, Neil thought, made some sense.

“And,” Todd continued, a bit more confidently, “objectively… I _know_ that wasn’t my fault, and it shouldn’t keep me from living my life now, but—” his voice dropped back to a hushed tone- “sometimes it just… does.”

“Ah,” Neil said quietly, nodding a bit to indicate understanding. “But—”

Todd turned away from the couch and once again made eye contact with Neil.

“But what?”

Neil didn’t know whether to say what he was thinking; on one hand, he thought, a nonchalant ‘nothing,’ might be the best option. But on the other hand, it would be dishonest, and that wasn’t fair to Todd.

“But,” he said, meeting Todd’s gaze, “is such intense self-deprivation really a good way to live? I mean, we aren’t all straight-up hedonists, like, you know- Charlie. But we don’t all need to be ascetics either. Sure, you may _read_ Hopkins, but you _aren’t_ Hopkins. You could, I don’t know, channel Rossetti instead.”

Todd blushed.

“That’s an imperfect analogy; he was way too into women. Also, you should have specified _which_ Rossetti you meant, because otherwise I might have thought you were talking about his sister Christina, who, by the way, is the more well-known poet.”

Neil started to laugh. Only Todd would turn this into some kind of poetry lecture. He took a moment to collect himself, before saying, “sorry, I know I should have let it go. I understand why you want to go home.”

At that, he expected a nod, or a thank you- something along those lines. So it came as a shock when, next thing he knew, Todd pinned him to arm of the couch and began to kiss him feverishly. It took all Neil’s will not to respond with equal intensity. He quickly broke off the kiss and looked into Todd’s somewhat bewildered face.

“What was that?”

For a moment, Todd seemed unsure how to respond, but then, in a soft, serious tone said, “You’re right, you know. Poor analogy aside, you’re right.” 

“Maybe so,” Neil answered. “But that doesn’t mean that—”

“I know,” Todd told him. “But I want to.”

Neil had to make sure he was hearing correctly.

“Stay over, or…?”

“Both,” Todd whispered, his lips once again just inches from Neil’s.

“You’re sure?” Neil asked. “You have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Their eyes locked with mutual understanding before their lips met once again, and this time, Neil responded fervently. He had only recently begun to realize that Todd, under the quiet, calculating façade, harbored intense emotions- and this was certainly proof his suspicions had been correct. A slight moan escaped his lips as he felt kisses trail down his neck.

“ _God_.”

He whispered it hoarsely, as Todd’s hands crept underneath his shirt, grazing his bare skin.

“We,” he murmured, “we should—”

The words wouldn’t quite leave Neil’s mouth, as feathery kisses were now being planted onto his collarbone- but Todd eventually seemed to get the message.

“Yes?” he asked softly, his lips returning to meet Neil’s, more gently than before.

“We,” Neil breathed, breaking the kiss, “should probably go to my room.”

Todd nodded in agreement, and as the two of them stood up from the couch, Neil let out a little laugh and said, “You know, after earlier Charlie’s never going to let me hear the end of this.”

“Probably not,” Todd told him, smiling, as they ascended the dusty old staircase to the second floor of the house.

Once they finally reached the bedroom, and shut the door behind them, Neil watched Todd take in his décor.

“You’ve got a lot of Playbills,” Todd commented.

“Of course,” Neil said, grinning. “Not that I’ve seen all the shows, mind you. I’m way too broke for that. I just stock up at the Broadway flea market in September.”

“You know,” Todd began, smiling slightly, “Someone might get a Playbill with you in it one day.”

“ _God_ , I wish,” Neil told him. “But enough about my future acting career. You’re still sure you…?”

“I’m sure,” Todd said, for the second time that evening, pressing his lips against Neil’s to emphasize the point.

Neil could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

_Since when_ , he thought, _am I the nervous one?_

Then again, he had to admit, _he_ wasn’t all that accustomed to the combination of sex _and_ emotional intimacy.

“We won’t,” he whispered against Todd’s cheek, “do anything you aren’t comfortable with. Especially since it’s been four years for you.”

He ran his fingers through Todd’s hair, and Todd’s eyes met his appreciatively.

“What were you thinking?” Todd murmured into his ear. 

“Hmmm.”

Neil smiled impishly as his hand crept down to unfasten Todd’s belt buckle.

“I suppose we could start there,” he whispered breathily, working at the buttons.

“Yes, I suppose we could,” Todd replied, shrugging out of the now loosened trousers.

“And perhaps,” Neil suggested slyly, “we should move to the bed.”

“A logical proposition,” Todd teased, as he walked across the room to sit down on top of Neil’s blue comforter. He then, much to Neil’s surprise, pulled his shirt up over his shoulders, and dropped it onto the floor.

_Okay then_ , Neil thought, as he sat down to join Todd. _I guess we’re really doing this._

He quickly shrugged off his own shirt and trousers, and soon, he and Todd lay facing each other on the bed, wearing nothing but their boxers. Todd’s lips found Neil’s collarbone once again, resuming the work they’d begun in the living room.

“ _Jesus Christ,_ Todd,” Neil whined, gasping as lips delicately nipped at his skin.

“So,” Todd said, in between kisses. “What was it you were thinking again?”

_Ah yes,_ thought Neil, trying to ignore the tightness in his boxers. _That._ _It was difficult to do that when someone else had you pinned under their mouth._

“Well,” he teased, as Todd peppered kisses onto his neck, “maybe if you stop pleasuring me for one second, you’ll find out.”

“Oh fine,” Todd said, feigning sarcasm as he looked back into Neil’s eyes. 

Neil smiled, and subsequently pressed a gentle kiss onto Todd’s lips. Then he slowly moved lower and lower, until-

“ _Oh. That.”_

Todd gasped as Neil’s lips brushed over the fabric of his underwear.

“Yes, that,” Neil murmured. “But only if you want that.”

“I do,” Todd breathed, glancing down at his hip where Neil’s head was currently resting.

“Okay, then.”

Neil smiled as he said it. And, as he tugged Todd’s shorts down, let his tongue find its destination, and listened to the resultant moans of pleasure, he gathered that Todd, was, in fact, learning that a bit of hedonism was perfectly fine after all.

* * *

A little while later, they lay in Neil’s bed, half-dressed and curled into each other, Todd wrapped in Neil’s arms.

“I take it,” Neil whispered, his breath tickling Todd’s neck, “that you enjoyed that.”

Todd sighed contentedly.

“Mhmm.”

“That’s good,” Neil murmured, running his fingers softly through Todd’s hair. 

“It was.”

Neil could tell Todd was satisfied, comfortable, and, by the looks of it, a bit drowsy, so he decided to turn the topic of conversation to something else. 

“I wonder what everyone else got up to…” 

“I dunno,” Todd mumbled, yawning, “but I can check my phone and see if I got a message from Steven or Gerard.”

He got up, pulled his trousers off the floor, and took his phone out of the back pocket.

“You were right,” he said, glancing down at the screen before rejoining Neil in bed.

“About what?”

“Steven and Charlie. Gerard took Ginny home. Steven and Charlie wound up together on the couch looking at some kind of electronic music software on Charlie’s laptop.”

“Oh, dear God,” Neil said, laughing.

“It’s called Max MSP, apparently,” Todd continued. “Gerard says it’s a lot like computer coding, and that Charlie’s been wanting to write a piece of music for sax and electronics using it, but hasn’t been able to figure it out. And, well, Steven can definitely code. Ginny was not thrilled.”

Neil chortled.

“It’s really not her fault, you know,” he told Todd. “Ginny’s, that is. Remember the div school guy I mentioned in the bookstore back in November? The one she dated briefly?”

Todd nodded.

“Any time she’d bring him out with us, Charlie would ask things along the lines of ‘who in their right mind wants to be a priest?’ Which obviously didn’t go over well.”

“I mean,” Todd said, rolling onto his back and looking at the ceiling, “who in their right mind _does_ want to be a priest?”

A rippled of laughter escaped from Neil’s mouth.

“Fair point,” he said, composing himself. “And, now that the mystery’s settled, we should probably get some sleep.”

“Sounds good,” Todd said, yawning.

“You can change into something of mine, if you want something clean,” Neil told him, gesturing towards a wooden dresser in the corner of the room. “I think my stuff should fit you. Underwear are in the top left drawer, and pajama shirts are in the bottom.”

“Thanks,” Todd said, walking over to the dresser to put on a fresh pair of clothes. 

When he returned to the bed, he lay down to face Neil, who was smiling broadly.

“I think,” Neil said happily, “I’m going to make pancakes in the morning.”

“Well, don’t burn yourself again,” Todd teased, glancing down at the _Inside Out_ band-aid on Neil’s finger.

Neil chuckled, before gently pressing a kiss onto Todd’s lips.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I won’t.”


	4. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I originally meant for this and what will now be chapter five to exist as a single entity. But after writing, I think it makes much more sense for them to stand alone. 
> 
> So- here's some more of the story! 
> 
> PS: I highly doubt I'll ever update this quickly again. Just for the record. 
> 
> *Also, this is where things do start to get a bit serious; warnings for manipulative/emotionally abusive parenting, and references to prior mental health issues, including an implied suicide attempt and unhealthy drinking habits.*

Six days later, the letter arrived.

It was after 11 PM on Thursday, and Neil had just gotten home, exhausted from late night rehearsal. His only priorities were food, a hot shower, and a good night’s rest, or at least a decent night’s rest- sleeping soundly was, admittedly, not always his strong suit.

He walked into the house, trying to shut the door as quietly as possible; it still creaked, despite his best effort, and he winced slightly at the noise. Knox and Chris, he knew, would already be fast asleep, whereas Charlie would still be awake, sitting on the couch, writing music. Neil smiled wryly, already envisioning the conversation that always happened on nights like these:

“ _Charlie, seriously, go to bed!”_

_“Go to bed; that’s rich, coming from you of all people…”_

_“I’ll go to bed if you go to bed.”_

_“Okay, fine, but if my comp teacher doesn’t like my work tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”_

_“Well, if your comp teacher doesn’t like your work, then maybe you should have started on it earlier in the week.”_

The usual banter, however, did not arrive. When Neil reached the living room, Charlie was there, as always, still wide awake; but he was not on his computer. Instead, he was staring up at Neil, ashen faced, with what appeared to be a letter on his lap.

Charlie rarely acted this way, and when he did, it usually meant something gravely serious had happened. Neil strode over to the couch, hands trembling and mind reeling. In a futile attempt to appear as calm as possible, he took a deep breath before sitting down next to Charlie.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly, hoping the quavering in his voice wouldn’t betray the sheer terror that he felt.

“You tell me,” Charlie said, handing Neil the letter. “This came for you today; I obviously didn’t open it, but I saw the address. It’s not from your parents’ house, it’s from a strange P.O. Box… but your mother’s name is on it, and I still recognize her handwriting from rooming with you sophomore year.” 

“Oh,” Neil said hoarsely, staring at the envelope now clasped in his hand.

“Yeah,” Charlie told him quietly. “I sure as hell don’t know what she wants, or how she got your new address, but I figured you shouldn’t have to find out alone.”

Neil’s mouth felt dry. He didn’t know what to say or what to do; part of him wanted to burn the damn letter- take a lighter to it and watch it go up in flames. He loved his mother, really and truly- but he was also angry at her; angry because no matter how much she claimed to care about her son, she never did enough to protect him from his father’s emotional abuse. Abuse that Neil was still trying to recover from, after three years of substantial therapy.

And he’d been doing well, too; developing semi-normal sleeping habits, regulating his mood, keeping on top of his meds, and drinking less. 

He was also happier. The happiest he’d ever been, really, thanks to acting, and Todd.

_Right. Todd._ Neil thought, still staring at the unopened letter in his hand. _Todd, who knows my shit parents tried to force me to go to medical school, but has no idea how much it fucked me up…_

Neil was spiraling now. He knew Todd would have to know the full truth eventually; that was inevitable. But would Todd still want to be with him if he told the entire story? He wasn’t so sure. But, he couldn’t dwell on that right now. He had to focus on the problem at hand, the problem that was, quite literally, _in_ his hand- the envelope.

Charlie glanced over at Neil, still looking uncharacteristically somber. 

“Are you going to open it?”

Neil bit his lip.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to. But goddamn do I want a drink.”

“You and I both know that’s a bad idea,” Charlie told him. “We’re not the sort of people who can drink when we’re upset.”

“True,” Neil answered, with a rueful laugh. “You punch people and I—”

Charlie cut him off.

“Don’t you dare joke about that.”

Neil blinked back the tears pooling at the rims of eyes. Charlie was right; he really shouldn’t joke about _that_.

“Sorry,” he choked, his eyes burning as escaped tears dripped down his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Charlie murmured. “Sophomore year was just a bad time.”

It really wasn’t okay. Neil knew that much. And sophomore year was more than just a ‘bad time,’ but he decided it best not the press the subject any further.

“Yeah… it was,” he said, taking a shaky breath and forcing back more tears. 

Charlie looked down at the letter.

“I think you should probably open it.”

“You do?”

Neil was surprised. He figured Charlie, of all people, would not mind watching the envelope burn to ash without ever knowing its contents. Apparently he was wrong. 

“Yes,” Charlie continued. “I do.”

Then, as if he could read Neil’s mind, he forced a grin and said, “we can burn it after if you want.”

Neil let out a bitter laugh.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He tore at the edges of the envelope slowly, overwhelmed with trepidation. Eventually, he pulled the letter out, holding it between his thumbs as though it were a ticking time bomb. He dropped it, and watched it flutter into his lap, his heart pounding. 

“Just remember,” Charlie told him, “the only thing that matters is how you choose to respond.”

Neil was half-tempted to roll his eyes; it was weird, hearing that phrase come from Charlie, of all people. But the words, Neil knew, were always true, no matter who said them. He looked up from the letter to meet Charlie’s concerned eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

“I know,” Charlie said. “Just open the damn thing.”

Neil nodded, unfolded the paper in front of him, inhaled sharply, and read:

_Dear Neil,_

_Please don’t be upset at me for writing; I know this is not how you wanted to hear from me, if, of course, you want to hear from me at all. But I miss having my son in my life, so when I finally found your current address, I couldn’t resist._

_We both miss you; yes, as hard as it might be to believe, your father misses you too. And that’s partly why I’m writing- I was wondering if there was anything, anything at all- that might make you consider reconciliation. I’m sure if you were to reach out to your father, something might be arranged. Please think about it._

_Love,_

_Mom_

Neil stared blankly at the parchment for a moment, hardly daring to believe what he’d just read. Mentally, he was fuming.

_How **dare** she. The audacity of it…_

Charlie broke the silence.

“What does she want?”

Neil let out a scornful laugh.

“For me to reconcile with my father, apparently.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

“I’m not.”

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, before exchanging knowing glances.

“Do you think your father even _wants_ to reconcile?” Charlie asked. “Seems pretty fucking far-fetched to me.”

Neil shook his head.

“There’s no way he does. At least, not on any terms that aren’t his.”

“Sure as hell figures,” Charlie muttered. “And what was with the weird address?”

Neil shrugged.

“She probably didn’t want him to know she’d written to me.”

“I should have fucking guessed…”

Neil kept staring at the letter in disbelief. It was obvious, he thought, that his mother had written entirely on her own volition. The pleading… the strange address… There was no way his father knew anything had been sent. On one hand, this made Neil’s blood boil. The whole thing was twisted; he was not the one who’d severed the relationship. All he’d done was choose to go to drama school. Any reconciliation was not, and never would be solely his responsibility. And yet…

“Charlie… what if he finds out about this? My father, that is. I don’t think he’d like mom writing to me without permission, and I’d hate to think how he’d react.”

“That shit’s not your problem, Neil, and you know it.”

“Yes, but—”

Charlie cut him off.

“Neil. Whatever is between them is _not_ your responsibility. Now,” he said, eyeing the paper, “do you want to burn the damn thing or not?”

“I… can I take a picture of the address first?”

Charlie sighed.

“Let me do it. That way it won’t be on your phone, haunting you.”

“Fine,” Neil said, handing the envelope to Charlie, who quickly snapped a photo. “I suppose better for you to have it than me. Just… don’t lose it, okay?”

“I won’t,” Charlie answered. “Because if anything, if it keeps happening, you might need evidence for a restraining order.”

Neil rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, Charlie. I’m not taking my mother to court.”

“You say that now. Anyway—” Charlie held up the envelope in his hand. “Are you ready to burn this damn thing?”

Neil nodded. There was nothing he’d like to do more.

“Good,” Charlie said. “Let’s get a lighter and go to the backyard.”

A few minutes later, Neil and Charlie stood watching as the letter and envelope erupted into flames and disintegrated into the firepit.

Once the paper was nothing but cinder, Charlie turned to look over at Neil.

“Better?”

Neil nodded reluctantly.

“Yeah… I think. It was satisfying, at least. But the whole thing is still very unnerving.”

Charlie bobbed his head in agreement.

“Do you have therapy next week?”

“Yeah. Wednesday.”

“Good,” Charlie replied. “I’m sure it will help.”

At that, they both fell silent for a few seconds, before Charlie broached the unspoken question lingering in the air.

“Are you going to tell Todd?”

Neil sighed. He had no idea if he should tell Todd or not. As far as he was concerned, this could stay between himself, his therapist, and Charlie. It wasn’t Todd’s circus, nor should it be. Todd did not deserve to be exposed to Neil’s utter shit show of a family life.

“I’m… not sure,” were the words that finally escaped from Neil’s lips.

“I think you should tell him,” Charlie replied.

“You do?”

“Yes. Not that I’m an expert on the subject,” Charlie said, laughing wryly, “but I think if you want a serious relationship with someone, you tell them the most important things about your personal life.”

As much as Neil did not want to admit it, he knew Charlie was right. If this thing with Todd was going to have any chance of lasting, he needed to tell the truth; otherwise, everything would come out eventually anyway, and that would be messy. 

“I’ll call him later this week,” Neil answered, staring pensively into the fire pit.

“Good,” said Charlie. “He’ll probably be more understanding than you think.”

Neil nodded, and gazed at the ashes in the fire pit for a moment more before a cool breeze jolted him. He shivered.

“We should probably go to bed.”

“I have music to write,” Charlie said with a laugh. “But you should still get some sleep.”

“I will, but only if you do too.”

“But my composition teacher—” 

“Charlie.”

“Fine.”

At that, they both went inside; as Neil grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen and walked up to his room, he could not help but wryly think, _I guess we got to the usual banter after all_. It was, at least, some semblance of normalcy in a day that had been altogether perturbing.

Neil knew his chances of getting sleep were slim, so he grabbed a change of clothes, and went to get the hot shower he still so desperately craved. As he let the hot water flow over his skin and scrubbed off the grimy sweat left over from rehearsal, he also wished he could magically wipe away his mother’s words. But that, he knew, was impossible. Even though the paper was ash, its contents were imprinted onto his brain. He reached for the shampoo bottle, squirted some into his hands, threaded it through his hair, and rinsed it off. Then he stood in the shower for a few more minutes, letting water continue streaming down around him, and he cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a firm believer in the value of a good shower cry, but also poor Neil.


	5. Tea, Pizza, and....Radios?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's Chapter 5! 
> 
> *Warnings for discussions of suicide, underage drinking, anxiety, and abusive parenting*

When the phone call came, Todd was trying to nap; _trying_ , but certainly not succeeding. The year’s first warm spell had arrived, and the lack of a/c made it difficult to sleep in the afternoon, at least, difficult for Todd, who preferred cool air and heaps of blankets over sweating under a sheet. Sunlight peeked through the shaded windows as Todd rolled over to stare at the ceiling and listen to the whirr of his only-so-helpful fan. He knew the heat wasn’t the only thing keeping him awake; a lot of thoughts were churning in his brain, and he couldn’t shut them off.

Yesterday, he learned that one of his papers had been accepted for a conference- his first. He knew he _should_ be delighted, but instead, kept imagining himself hypothetically folding under the pressure of public speaking in a room full of more accomplished scholars.

He sighed, rolled back over onto his stomach, and flipped the pillow over to the cool side. He couldn’t think about the conference now; he needed to rest. As he closed his eyes, and focused intently on the white noise coming from the fan, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to drift off this time. He had no such luck. As the pillow heated up again, and more beads of sweat formed on his skin, Todd’s thoughts turned to another stressor: Neil.

He’d barely heard from Neil all week, except for a cryptic text that had arrived on Monday:

_Hi Todd. Just wanted to say that some family stuff came up, and I’d rather skip coffee this week. Don’t worry- I’m fine. I’ll call you back later in the week after I’ve been to therapy._

Todd sighed. He was no idiot; if ‘family stuff’ had come up, Neil was not ‘fine.’ In the weeks he’d known Neil, Todd had become accustomed to the other boy occasionally mentioning his controlling, estranged father, and afterwards, going uncharacteristically quiet, as though he’d said too much. Neil was gregarious, but guarded, and Todd sympathized. Though he was far shyer than Neil, he too was reluctant to overshare details about his personal life. No one needed to know that much about his neglectful parents, anxiety, and crippling impostor syndrome.

More light suddenly streamed through the window. Todd groaned into his pillow and rolled over onto his side. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to fall asleep, and he suspected that it was approaching 5 PM; too late for a proper nap, unless he wanted to risk insomnia later on.

Resigned, he stretched, got out of bed, pulled the window shades up, and grabbed his phone from the desk where it lay charging for the past hour and a half. Nervously, he flipped it over, hoping nothing serious had come up; he just wanted to spend a quiet evening drinking tea, reading poetry, and coloring, which, aside from medication, seemed to be one of the few things that helped shut his brain down. He checked his email first, and, seeing no urgent requests from students, sighed with relief. Then he glanced at missed calls; there was one, and it was from Neil.

Todd grimaced. He was tired, stressed, and really didn’t want to deal with this right now, but that, he knew, would not be fair to Neil, who had been courteous enough to give advance warning. So, he pressed ‘return call’ and hoped for the best. A few seconds later, Neil’s voice came through.

“Hey! I was wondering if you’d noticed I’d called.”

Todd wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that Neil picked up, or disappointed that he had not gotten the answering machine; either way, he knew they had to have this conversation eventually, so he collected his nerve and responded.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I missed it- was trying to take a nap. Stayed up late last night marking reading responses on Eliot’s _Four Quartets_.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Well, you got me at a good time! No rehearsal for another two hours, so I’m free to talk.”

Todd bit his lip. He wasn’t sure if he should mention Neil’s family trouble immediately or not, so instead, he simply asked, “What’s going on?”

“The usual,” Neil told him. “Classes, rehearsal, working the box office… And, well, some shit with my parents, like I said in my text Monday.”

Cautiously, Todd inquired.

“What kind of shit?”

Neil’s sigh was audible on the other line.

“I have no idea how she got my address, but my mother sent a letter asking me to reconcile with my father.”

_Good grief_ , thought Todd. From what little he knew about Neil’s father, he figured reconciliation was not on the table. But, he needed to make sure his inkling was correct.

“You aren’t going to…right?”

“Absolutely not,” Neil replied adamantly. “The thing is, I don’t even think he knows she contacted me.”

“Oh.”

Todd knew he shouldn’t be surprised by this, but it did make the situation messier.

“Yeah,” Neil responded. “It’s not good. I didn’t answer, because I don’t want to encourage her, and I _definitely_ don’t want my father to find out, but I’m still worried she might contact me again.” 

_That’s a reasonable fear_ , Todd thought. Though he personally knew nothing about persistent, unwanted contact from parents (his own parents never sent mail, or called him, unless it was an emergency), he did not think it was usually a one time affair.

“I mean, I hope she gets the message,” Neil said, continuing his train of thought, “but if she was persistent enough to track down my address, I’m not so sure it won’t happen again.”

“What are you going to do?”

Todd felt silly, letting that question escape his lips; he didn’t think there was really much Neil could do right now, and he hoped he had done no harm in asking. 

“I’m just trying to go about life as usual for the moment,” Neil said, confirming Todd’s suspicions. “And I’m hoping and praying I don’t hear anything more from her.” 

_No kidding_ , Todd thought. Then, apprehensively, he asked, “Is that… everything?”

“Basically,” Neil answered, before taking a breath. “But… there is some other stuff I want to talk to you about, in person, if you’re free this weekend. And I’d like to talk in private, if possible.”

At that, Todd felt his anxiety kick in. What other stuff? Wasn’t unwanted contact from an estranged parent already bad enough? And why wasn’t this a conversation they could have over coffee?

He inhaled deeply before answering.

“Y-yeah, can we do tomorrow evening? Six? You can come over here, if you want. I’ll send my address. Steven’s got a dinner date, and Gerard’s going out with some engineering department friends, so it’ll be quiet.”

The line went silent for a few moments before Neil spoke.

“Sure, that works. Talk to you tomorrow then?”

“Yes, that sounds good.”

“Good. I’ve got to run- need to eat dinner before rehearsal. But please don’t worry about me, okay Todd?”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

As they ended the call, Todd knew that he would, in fact, worry, whether Neil wanted him to or not. It was just in his nature. Trying to put the conversation from his mind, he headed into the kitchen to make dinner, and as he grabbed a package of pasta from the pantry, he couldn’t help but wryly think _at least I have tea and coloring books._

* * *

An unrelenting light rain settled in the following day, and with it, the heat abated. Todd found relief in the cooler temperature, but simultaneously wished his nerves had subsided along with the hot weather. Earlier in the afternoon, he’d returned home from teaching, and, after eating lunch and answering emails, he once again tried (and failed) to take a nap. After tossing and turning for a good forty-five minutes, he gave up, made a cup of tea, and curled up on the couch, book of poetry in hand.

He couldn’t concentrate. Instead, all he could do was stare at the page and blink a few times, trying to get the blurry words to come into focus. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, slammed the book shut, and checked the time on his phone. 5:50.

_Shit_. Neil would be there in ten minutes.

Todd suddenly felt a bit self-conscious; he did, after all, look exhausted, and he was lounging on the couch in sweats and a t-shirt. But, recalling the other weekend, he figured Neil probably wouldn’t mind much. Instead, he was far more concerned about whatever it was they were supposed to talk about. What did Neil have to tell him? Could this be the end of their short-lived relationship? Todd shuddered at the thought. He didn’t think that was the case, but if it were, he’d be heartbroken. He felt so intensely _alive_ when he was with Neil. He became less withdrawn and more forthright; it was a good feeling, and one he did not want to disappear.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said aloud, staring at the peeling grey paint on the apartment walls. Then, he took a deep breath in, and held it for a few seconds, but before he could exhale, the doorbell buzzed. His heart skipped a beat.

_Shit_. _He’s here._

Todd quickly put on some socks, and, trying his best not to slip and fall on the hardwood, hurried downstairs. When he reached the ground floor, he opened the door of the apartment building; Neil was standing there in a navy raincoat, trying not to get drenched.

“You should come in before it gets worse,” Todd told him, gesturing nervously into the entryway.

Neil knocked some water off of his rainboots, stepped inside, and took his coat off. He glanced around for a moment before speaking.

“Sorry I didn’t know it was a building,” he said, blushing slightly. “Hope I didn’t bother any of your neighbors…”

Todd shrugged as they turned to walk up the stairs.

“It happens a lot, and it isn’t like it’s late. I don’t think anyone’s going to mind.” 

At that, Neil looked relieved. They scaled the rest of the steps back to Todd’s apartment in silence, and when they got inside, Neil took his boots off and left them to dry by the door.

Todd could tell that Neil was nervous- it was rare to see him this quiet. Normally, he was gushing with enthusiasm about whatever play he was working on, or about something he’d learned in script analysis or Alexander Technique class; this strange silence was spooky.

They stood awkwardly by the door for a few moments before Todd finally found it in himself speak.

“Um… do you want to go sit down in the living room?” he ventured cautiously.

Neil hung his coat up and nodded in assent, but once again, remained silent. Todd felt his fingers tremble, and tensed up his hands, as if that would somehow quell his nerves. He could feel his heart beating as they walked to the living room and sat down on the couch, several feet apart, and all he could think was, _I hope he’s not about to break up with me._

Finally- _finally_ , after a few seconds of silence, Neil looked at Todd, smiled weakly and spoke.

“You look really tired.”

Todd nodded. He felt tired, too; all the failed naps, long days of writing, and late nights grading papers were really starting to wear him down.

“I am,” he said quietly, staring down at the fabric of the couch. “Probably because I’ve been teaching Eliot to freshman for three straight weeks.”

“Makes sense,” Neil said, making momentary eye contact with Todd before glancing back down at his feet. “I’m not super familiar with Eliot, but I did play the messenger in a small production of _Murder in the Cathedral_ a few years ago…”

“Nothing like a little bloodshed at Canterbury…” Todd quipped wryly. 

Neil laughed; it sounded genuine, not forced, and Todd was flooded with relief. Apparently, dark literature humor _was_ actually good for something.

After a few seconds’ silence, Neil finally looked up at Todd.

“Have you had dinner yet? I was thinking I’d order pizza to thank you for having me over.”

At the mention of food, Todd felt a gnawing sensation in his empty stomach. He’d been too nervous to snack earlier, but could tell he was hungry now.

“Yeah… that’d be great. Do you want something to drink? I can make some coffee or tea, or just get you a glass of water.”

“Tea sounds fantastic,” Neil said, as he pulled out his phone and opened a takeout app.

“Milk and sugar?” Todd asked.

Neil nodded.

“A little of both.”

Todd got up, walked to kitchen, grabbed some mugs and teabags, and put the kettle on to boil. As he waited for the water to heat and watched a plume of steam shoot into the air, he took some deep breaths. He was still nervous, but on the upside, something told him he wasn’t getting dumped.

Soon, he heard the telltale click that let him know the water was ready, and he poured some into two mugs, added a splash of milk and dash of sugar to Neil’s and kept his own as is. Then, instead of waiting several minutes for the tea to steep, he mashed a spoon against the bags before taking them out and tossing them in the trash. 

Todd carried the mugs cautiously back to the living room, trying not to spill anything as he walked. When he finally made it back to the couch, he handed the mug with milk and sugar to Neil, who glanced up from his phone, an appreciative smile on his face.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Todd replied, sitting back down. “It’s hot, so you probably want to let it cool down for a few minutes.” He gestured to the coasters on the coffee table in front of them.

“A wise suggestion,” Neil said, as he put his mug down, took a deep breath, and turned to face Todd, who suddenly felt his nerves returning.

Todd’s breathing was becoming more erratic, but he tried to maintain a calm façade. It was an act he never could have managed in High School, or even undergrad; but after having to confront his fear of public speaking through a semester and a half of teaching, he was becoming quite good at faking composure in stressful situations.

“So, uh, the reason why I wanted to talk today,” Neil began hesitantly, “has a lot to do with my parents, but it also has a lot to do with me...”

Todd fidgeted on the couch; he was all too aware of his own pounding heart, and the hardened, serious look on Neil’s face was not particularly reassuring.

“Anyway,” Neil continued, “do you remember our first date? When I told you that I took five years to finish undergrad because I had to do all the pre-med requirements?”

Todd nodded.

“Well, that’s only partially true.”

Neil spoke softly, and Todd could tell that he really did not want to say whatever was next. They stayed quiet for a few seconds before Todd, voice shaking, asked, “How so?”

“Well…” Neil began, staring down at the now clasped hands in his lap, “fall of sophomore year was a pretty rough time. I was taking some difficult classes, including Organic Chemistry, and I hardly had any time to act. So I threw myself into impulsive activities to cope. Fooling around with Charlie, who was my roommate at the time—”

_Knew there was something there_ , Todd thought, though he didn’t say it aloud.

“Drinking a lot- like, every weekend, often getting sick- sometimes even blacking out. I barely slept at all, and on weeknights usually ended up crying over homework in the laundry room…”

Neil stopped talking for a moment, reached for his mug of tea on the coffee table, and took a sip. Todd did the same, and as he sat in silence, taking in the sobriety of the situation, he finally understood why Neil was so hesitant to bring up this stuff; it sounded awful, especially the drinking. Todd had only ever been drunk once- junior year during a reading week party, after a miserable Thanksgiving break of “why can’t you be more like Jeff?” and “why are you always so quiet all the time?” He’d vomited in a toilet, and decided it was an experience he never wanted to have again. He couldn’t imagine that happening every single weekend.

“Anyway…” Neil spoke again, jarring Todd from his thoughts, “I went home for Christmas, got semester grades back, and, unsurprisingly, wound up with a C in Orgo. My father found out and pitched a fit, because I’d basically blown whatever chances I had of getting into _any_ prestigious med school, let alone Harvard. And, of course, my obsession with acting was the culprit.”

Todd took a sip of his tea and nodded. From everything he knew about Neil’s father, this did not surprise him at all.

“And then—”

But Neil couldn’t finish the thought. He’d choked up, and Todd, who noticed the tears pooling in the corner of Neil’s eyes, found himself dreading whatever came next.

Neil sniffled, took a shaky breath and tried his best to collect himself.

“And then…I snuck into my parents’ liquor cabinet, got buzzed on cheap whiskey, and… I don’t want to go into the how or why, but I, uh, I—”

His eyes met Todd’s, looking deadly serious.

“I tried to kill myself.”

Todd felt his throat constrict, and he suddenly became overtly conscious of the heat from the tea clinging to the roof of his mouth. This was _not_ what he had been expecting from this conversation- but then again, he’d not really known what to expect.

“ _Oh_ ,” he whispered softly, staring into his mug. He felt tears threatening to escape his own eyes, but fought them back for Neil’s sake.

“Yeah,” Neil murmured somberly, as he took a sip of tea. “I ended up in the hospital for a while, in the psych ward, and had to go on leave for the entire spring semester. But—” he took another sip from the mug and put it back on the coffee table- “I got the treatment and medication I needed, and have been seeing a therapist ever since. And by some goddamn miracle, my father didn’t try to coerce me into quitting my theater studies major. I’ve always thought that maybe, just _maybe_ , my mother said something…for once.”

They sat quietly for a few seconds, as Todd tried to process what he’d just been told. It was so difficult to imagine lively, spritely Neil ending up in such an awful situation- but then again, in the months they’d known each other, Todd _had_ come to realize that Neil’s abundant energy did not always translate to genuine happiness.

He took a breath, sipped his tea, and made brief, nervous eye contact with Neil, who looked as though he was about ready to talk again, but before either of them could say anything, Neil’s phone buzzed.

“That’ll be the pizza,” Neil said quietly, looking at the screen.

“Um.. I can go get it… if you want?” Todd offered. He figured it was the least he could do in the current situation. 

“Sure,” Neil murmured.

Todd took that as his cue to go, and rushed downstairs to grab the food. Once he got back to the apartment, he grabbed some plates from the kitchen, brought the pizza to the living room, set it on the coffee table, and rejoined Neil on the couch.

“Thanks,” Neil said, grabbing a slice and putting it on a plate.

“No problem,” Todd answered. “And thanks for ordering.”

Neil smiled halfheartedly. “You’re welcome.”

They ate quietly for a few minutes, soaking in the tension of the moment. Once they’d each finished one slice of pizza and started on a second, Neil finally spoke again.

“So…” he put his half eaten slice of pizza back on the plate and looked up at Todd- “I, uh, figured that it might be best if you knew all of that…”

Todd nodded. He felt like he had glue in his mouth, and wasn’t sure if it was the pizza, the nerves, or both, but he finally managed to answer anyway.

“Yeah…it probably was,” he said softly, grabbing his cup of tea from the coffee table and draining the last of it.

Neil feigned a grin.

“Hope I haven’t scared the shit out of you…”

“Well,” Todd said, biting his lip, “I’d be lying if I said you hadn’t…”

“ _Oh_ ,” Neil whispered, fabricated smile disappearing from his face. “Sorry.”

Todd shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You were honest. It’s just—” he wasn’t sure if he should say it, but it came out anyway- “It’s just that I also see a therapist and take meds… but for anxiety. So, um, yeah…”

“Oh. Shit.” Neil breathed. “So basically if either of us relapse badly then this could be a disaster…”

“Yep,” Todd answered softly, taking another bite of his pizza.

Neil fell silent for a moment, then drained his cup of tea and turned to look at Todd.

“I’m not your responsibility, you know,” he said, his expression deadly serious. “And if I get to be too much, or even if this is too much as is… we don’t have to do this.”

Todd stared at his uneaten pizza crust. He deeply appreciated Neil’s candor and definitely did not want to end the relationship, but, admittedly, needed some time to process everything he’d just learned.

Agitated, he fiddled with the crust on his plate.

“I don’t want to end this,” he finally said, quietly, “and I think maybe you should stay over on my futon tonight, so you don’t have to go home feeling like a mess—but after tomorrow morning I just need a few days to think about everything. My brother’s in town Sunday, and I’m meeting him for breakfast, and I’ve got a lot of work to do, and therapy on Tuesday… so maybe we’ll talk again after that?”

Neil finished the last bite of his pizza and nodded.

“Sounds fair.”

“Now,” Todd said, putting his plate back on the coffee table and grabbing his laptop, “do you want to watch something mindless and relaxing?”

“Can’t think of anything I’d like more right now,” Neil answered.

“Any suggestions?” Todd asked, as he navigated to the Netflix homepage.

“What would you say to _Great British Bake Off_?”

Todd smiled.

“Your wish is my command.”

He set the computer on the table and pressed play. Neil scooted over, closing the distanced between them, and Todd put a gentle hand on his back.

“You alright?”

“More or less,” Neil murmured, resting his head on Todd’s shoulder.

Todd threaded his fingers gingerly through Neil’s hair. Neil sighed contentedly. They remained curled up on the couch for about an hour and a half, watching cakes, custards, pies, and treacle being made, before the door to the apartment swung open, startling them both. Todd quickly paused the video.

“Guess either Steven or Ger’s home already,” he said. “I didn’t expect either of them to be back for a while yet…”

“S’alright,” Neil responded, letting out a yawn.

A few seconds later, Steven wandered into the living room, with none other than-

“Charlie?”

Neil was incredulous, as was Todd. Steven ran his fingers through his ginger waves, flushed, and looked nervously at the ground.

“I—” he stammered- “I told Charlie he could come see the antique radio collection that Ger and I have.”

Charlie, decidedly less embarrassed, cocked a grin.

“I thought if the three of us could get them operational, they could be used in a performance of Cage’s _Radio Music_.”

Todd glanced at Neil, confused.

“It’s a piece of chance music,” Neil explained, “for multiple radios, and they all change stations at different times.”

Charlie winked at Todd. “I’ve taught him well.”

“Anyway—” Steven stammered, shuffling his feet on the ground. “We’ll, uh, leave you be…”

Charlie smirked, and followed Steven out of the room.

When Todd was sure he and Neil weren’t going to be bothered again, he un-paused _Bake Off_ and sighed.

Neil rolled his eyes. “Radios, my ass…”

Todd laughed. “I can’t believe Steven was out with Charlie. I thought that would for sure be a one-time thing…”

“Well,” Neil said, shrugging, “I guess they have enough in common, and it would do Charlie good to date someone with sense for once. And besides-” he yawned and returned his head to Todd’s shoulder- “we probably needed the laugh.”

“True,” Todd answered quietly, gently kissing the top of Neil’s head.

Neil dozed off, and Todd turned his attention back to _Bake Off_. As he watched contestants making shortbread, he felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach- _and_ , he thought, looking at the half eaten box of pizza, _it’s not because I’m hungry_.

He looked down at Neil drifting off on his shoulder and sighed. He couldn’t recall ever caring about someone else quite like this before, but that, he knew, was the problem; he didn’t want to lose himself in the process.

He fidgeted for a second on the couch, and Neil sat up.

“You alright?”

Todd nodded. “Just thinking…”

“Whatever happens with us,” Neil murmured softly, “it’ll be okay.” He held out his hand, and Todd took it appreciatively.

They drifted back into relative silence, but neither the stillness, or the drone of _Bake Off_ in the background soothed the pit in Todd’s stomach. He hoped they would be okay, like Neil said; but, as with all things, he knew only time would tell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, I have a fairly good idea of where this fic is going and how it's going to eventually conclude, but I am going to take some time to do a bit more concrete planning on pacing, so Ch. 6 may not appear quite as quickly. That said, I do think I'm going to edit and expand upon an old ff.net one-shot, and put it in a series with one of my other DPS fics, Graveyard Letters. So if you're interested, stay tuned for that! (It's super duper angsty though, so, uh, sorry...)
> 
> Also- just want to say thank you to everyone who's supported this fic in any way so far, whether it's been through comments, kudos, or just reading! Writing has been helping me stay sane through quarantine, and I haven't done much fiction writing in a number of years, so the support means the world. <3


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